And then I watched, in the nursery, this little scene. The girl, Lydia, was about four, the boy younger, perhaps two. Lydia must have observed a hundred times the protuberances in front of her brother, Titus, but on this day she stared at him and said, Whats that youve got there? Her face! She was intrigued, shocked, envious, repelled she was gripped by strong contradictory emotions. I watched, and so did the slave girls. We knew that this was a momentous event.
At this Titus pushed forward his equipment, and began wagging his penis up and down, looking at her with lordly air. Its mine, its mine, he chanted and said, And what have you got? You havent got anything.
Lydia was standing looking down at her smooth front with the little pink cleft. Why? she demanded of the girls, of me, of her brother. Why have you got that, and I havent?
Its because you are a girl, says the little lord and master. I am a boy and you are a girl.
I think its ugly, you are horrible, she states, comes nearer to him, and says, I want it.
He swings his hips about, evading her probing hand, singing, You cant, you cant, and so thats that.
I want to touch, she demands, and this time he leaves his protuberances just within reach, but withdraws them suddenly as her hand approaches.
Then I wont let you look at mine, she says and turns herself round, hiding herself.
At which he sings, I dont care, why should I care, youre just silly.
Im not silly, she half screams, and runs to the girls. Why, why, why? she demands, as one whisks her up in her arms.
Dont cry, says this nurse. Dont give him that satisfaction. Its not fair, sobs the child, and the other girl says, But if you had that you wouldnt know what to do with it, sending me a great wink, and a laugh. (But I have never been that kind of Master: perhaps she wished I were.)
And at that moment I knew I would at least try and take on this task, my history of that ancient, long-ago time. Scenes I had pondered over, thinking, but after these ages, how can you really understand what it meant when females and the males were together in that valley, while the eagles watched them, not knowing anything and we Romans know so much about why the girls were shaped like this, and the boys like that, let alone what it all meant.
They were driven by powerful instincts and we do know how strong they are, nothing has changed there but I keep coming back to a thought: that the boys seemed to be hungering for something, wanting something, needing but did not know what it was their squirts wanted forcing all the rest of themselves to want, to need.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.Купить и читать книгу
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.